A Summer for Ducks
by bisexualcharliedavis
Summary: Charlie Davis has things pretty good. He has a good job, wears what he likes an styles his hair exactly how he likes it. Hell, he's even got a wonderful fiancee. There's just one itty bitty teeny weeny problem. Everyone thinks he's a woman. (trans!Charlie Davis)


_A/N: Trans!Charlie, canon typical violence, im sure you know the pairing by now. Shout out to vampirateslagoon for helping me with this! Love that dude._

Charlie Davis has things pretty good, if he does say so himself. He keeps his hair short, and styles it with a part on the left just how he likes it. He wears pants most days. He has a good job that he enjoys most of the time. He has underwear that give the illusion of a flat chest to not only him but anyone who looked at him. Hell, he even has a handsome fiancée. There is just one problem. One glaring thing that was wrong with his life.

Everyone he knows is under the impression that he is a woman.

He set the comb on the dressing table, and ran his fingers along his smooth chest, and then sighed. He turned his back to the mirror and took his shirt into his hands, tugging it on and doing up the buttons. Matthew wanted to talk wedding plans tonight, which he wasn't sure that he could. It wasn't that he didn't want to marry Matthew, he very much did, but the thing was, they were never meant to be so serious.

"Charlie!"

"Yes?" He called back, doing his best to pretend that being called by a masculine name didn't fill his stomach with glitter and hot air. It shouldn't, not after all this time. People have been calling him Charlie since he was seven years old, and he decided that Charlene was just simply incorrect. Back then he couldn't explain it; it was just too girly, to pretty. Not like Charlie, which was just right. Just perfectly masculine enough for him.

"Have you seen my hat?"

"Have you tried the kitchen table?" He yelled back.

He thought that Matthew should really not be spending his nights here. It was bad enough as it was, the whispers. A fifty-two-year-old man marrying a thirty-year-old? The Church ladies probably had a field day. According to Jean, they had. Especially given that he was such a 'tomboy.' Matthew told him to ignore them but it was difficult sometimes. After all: Matthew was never anything other than a perfect gentleman to him.

Figuring he was dressed, he headed to the living room. Charlie lived with Lucien and Jean. They'd been away the previous night, which he'd been more than happy to take advantage of. Danny is sitting at the table looking mildly annoyed at him. He hadn't been pleased with Charlie bringing his boyfriend over, but he supposed it hardly mattered. He had permission as long as they weren't you know. Sinning, or whatever the word Jean might use was.

"Do you need a lift to work?" Matthew asked as Charlie dropped into a seat. He shook his head and offered Matthew a smile.

"I'll get the bus." He assured Matthew, who kissed the side of his face.

"If you're sure."

"The entirety of Ballarat isn't gossiping, of that, I can assure you." He said, pouring tea from Danny's pot. He smiled at Matthew one last time as he nipped out the door. Charlie sipped his tea carefully, unable to wipe away his smile.

He did love Matthew Lawson. If there was something he was sure of, it was that he was in love with Matthew Lawson. Like Charlie, he didn't have time for small talk. He was low-key, liked staying home over going out. He liked the same music and the same books. He was a good man. A good man for Charlie except for that one little, itty bitty problem, of course. Charlie did want to get married, but really only to Matthew Lawson. But he couldn't. Not this year, and not any other year, under false pretenses. Matthew thought he was a woman. He wasn't.

He was fairly sure that the correct word for what he was, was actually transvestite or some such word that he didn't think he could ever say in real life. It sounded like a bug to him, but that was beyond the point. He was certain that he couldn't live the rest of his life being called she, and by the wrong name.

For the most part, people called him Charlie. It was the name he liked, the one he'd chosen. Sadly, there were still people who insisted on calling him 'Charlene'. Matthew's mother was one of them. He'd expected a level of hostility from her, of course, he had, most mothers had some level towards their daughter in law (Or son in law, in Charlie's case). She called him the wrong name, dismissed him regularly as not feminine enough (he'd even worn a skirt once in an effort to impress her.) and that he intended to keep working rather than give her grandchildren.

He'd not wanted it to be so serious with Matthew; not really. But the man had asked him on a date, he'd brought flowers and even had a little speech written as to why Charlie should give him a shot even if he was older. He'd come over that evening with Lucien. He even brought flowers. He hardly needed it, Charlie already liked him. They'd had a lovely time at the restaurant Matthew had picked. They'd had wine and joked. Matthew didn't even object when Charlie offered to pay for half. It'd had been better than his usual nights alone in the living room perusing various reports from the factory he was the manager of while Lucien and Jean attempted to hide their relationship from him for whatever reason.

But then Matthew had come back and asked him for another date, having had apparently, as good a time as Charlie. Charlie had figured that a few dates weren't going to hurt anyone. Neither he nor Matthew was being swarmed by suitors. He was too masculine for most men to approach, and too feminine for most women. Matthew may have when he'd been young but not recently. He's cold and unapproachable, apparently. Charlie would disagree. But that too was much besides the point because after that they went on a third fourth and fifth date.

After eight months of dating, Matthew asked Charlie to marry him. It was very romantic. Or what Charlie thought was romantic. He was over for dinner that night, and when Jean went to get the cake, he was presented with a large vanilla cream cake (his favorite) with 'Charlie Lawson' in the center, written in blue icing. When he turned, Matthew was holding onto the box so tightly that his fingers were white.

"Charlie Davis." He found himself shocked and a little confused. Surely this was a mistake, wasn't it? But it didn't seem to be because Matthew continued. "I know that we are very different people, who live different lives and come from different worlds. As you've pointed out, not a lot of things make me happy. But you are one of them, and I know you don't much care for grand romantic gestures, but I was wondering. Hoping, really, if you would do me an honor, and marry me?" Charlie had been gobsmacked, truly. He had only been able to gasp out a soft yes and watch as Matthew slid the ring onto his finger. A plain gold band, like he said he liked. Lucien is cheering, Danny is laughing excitedly, Jean is speaking words Charlie can't hear over the deafening sounds of blood pumping in his ears as Matthew kissed him. He kisses back. For a second, just a second, mind you, everything was fine. Good, even. Perfect in fact.

Charlie Davis worked at a factory. He used to make clothes, and worked his way painfully up through the ranks to a floor manager, and then a manager. The whole reason he even came to Ballarat was to work at a factory here and receive a pay rise, in fact. As he approached the door to his office, he noticed a man milling around. A Tyneman, though if it's Patrick or Edward he can't remember.

"Miss Charlene!" He says as if that's Charlie's name.

"Good morning Mister Tyneman." He replies, grimly. The Tynemans have been attempting to recruit him for months, probably to bankrupt the factory and have some sort of a monopoly. "What can I do for you?" He asked, casually. He stepped into the office and set his case on the table.

"I was hoping that you'd had a chance to consider our proposal." Charlie reached into his briefcase to produce the proposal that he had actually taken a look at. It was delivered by the elder Tyneman, and this was a different one, so it must be the son. Patrick would rarely lower himself to such menial work.

"You can call me Charlie." He says, dropping into his seat. Edward smiles.

"Miss Charlene." He says, clearly as an intimidation tactic, "I think you'll find our proposition to be most agreeable." Charlie narrowed his eyes.

"Mister Tyneman, I think you'll find that I like the job I have now perfectly fine, and I'm not interested in taking a new one currently."

"What about when this job falls through when the factory closes?" Charlie raised an eyebrow. He doesn't like the way that Tynemans talk in absolutes.

"Doctor Blake needs a new secretary." He said, dryly, and passed the papers back to him. Edward (or maybe Patrick)'s face has gone a shade of red that Charlie finds amusing. He stands and passes the papers back.

"Keep us in mind."

"I can assure you I won't." If he mutters 'stupid bitch' under his breath on the way out, then Charlie chooses not to comment.

The rest of his day was almost standard. Almost.

Around lunch time, when he was eating his sandwich at his desk and trying to come up with a way to pitch wearing a suit to the wedding to Matthew, the phone rang. This in itself is not out of the ordinary. Charlie is a busy man, the phone rings a lot, but it was in fact what was on the other end of the phone that caught his attention. Danny doesn't have cause to call him very often. They live in different worlds most of the time. He answered the phone.

"Charlie Davis, Adele's Dresses"

"It's Danny."

"Good afternoon, Danny. What can I do for you?" He replied, setting his sandwich down.

"I think you need to come to the hospital. Lawson was…."

"Lawson was what?" Charlie demanded, already getting up and stuffing papers into his briefcase.

"He was hit, on the job. The Doc's checking him out." Pause. "He didn't want me to worry you but I thought you might want to know." Charlie is already halfway through putting his coat on.

"How bad is it?"

"I don't know. There's…A lot of blood."

"I'm coming," Charlie said, before putting the phone back down. He made his way out of the building and stuck a hastily scribbled note to his door.

'family emergency. Will call boss tonight.'

Before making his way to the hospital.

It's a long bus ride to the hospital. An older lady gave him a strange look when she saw he was wearing what made him comfortable. That is to say, pants over a skirt or dress. He'd thought that even if she thought he was a girl, then it was okay for a girl to wear pants. They weren't living in the eighteen hundreds anymore, he thought. Anyway. It wasn't like his employer cared about his pants, and neither did Matthew. But he's too worried about Matthew to be worried about his pants or about that one particular old woman on the bus. What's really going through his mind is possible scenarios about what could have happened to him.

Perhaps he was hit in the head with a wrench, and his head was crushed. Maybe he'd been hit by a car. Maybe he'd been stabbed eighteen times. Okay maybe that last one was unlikely, after all, Danny did say he was conscious.

By the time he arrives, Charlie is full out running. His compression brasserie is making it slightly harder to breathe than he would have liked.

"I'm here to see Matthew Lawson." He says, to the lady at reception, who gives him a funny look.

"Any relation?"

"I'm his fiancé." She continues looking at him funny before Lucien emerges around the corner.

"Charlie."

"Doc." Lucien looks at the woman behind the counter.

"She's with me." He assures her, "Don't worry." She nods and allows Charlie to pass. He hurries along next to Lucien as they made their way down the hallway.

"Is Matthew alright?" He demanded. "What happened?"

"While we were chasing a suspect, he ended up taking a few well-placed punches. He'll be fine in a couple of days." Charlie let out a long held breath and nodded.

"Are you sure?"

"I am." They turned a corner towards the private rooms.

"He's had some rather heavy duty pain killers."

"Danny said he didn't want me to come."

"He didn't want you to worry. He does now, though." Charlie was urged into the room, and he dropped onto a seat next to Matthew's bed, taking his hand tightly.

Charlie's hand is smaller, his fingers slot neatly between Matthew's.

The man is a mess, frankly. He has a black eye and a split lip, and that was what Charlie could see. He presumed that there was more under the blankets. Matthew cracks one eye opens and looks at him. He smiles, and one of his front teeth is cracked.

"Charlie's here." He said, sounding almost like he sounded after a couple of strong drinks.

"Yeah, Charlie's here." He murmured. Smoothing his other hand along the top of Matthew's. "I heard you got into a fight."

"Something like that," Matthew said, with a sigh. "It was nice of you to come."

"I wasn't going to leave you here alone, was I?" He asked, trying to comfort. It's not really in his nature, but he was prepared to give it a try, for Matthew. Lucien took up in the spot next to him.

"Hmmmm." Is Matthew's reply. "You're so beautiful. Have I told you recently?" He asked, looking to Charlie with starry eyes.

"You tell me that every day," Charlie replied, softly.

"Did I tell you I like your hair? Suits you." That spiked the hot air in his stomach. He had a haircut that was for men, short, rounded, and parted at the front.

"Yes, you have. Thank you." Matthew nodded, mostly to himself. Charlie brought his hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of his palm.

They sat in quiet for a while, Matthew speaks up.

"Will you talk?"

"About what?" He asks, casually.

"The wedding. We were meant to talk about it tonight, I think. Maybe. I just like to hear you talk."

"We were, yes." Charlie says, agreeably. If Matthew notices that he feels sad, he doesn't mention it. He's sure that they'll never make it to the altar. But Matthew is not well so he figures that he can talk for a while.

"Well, we're going to have it at Sacred Heart, because I'm Catholic."

"Okay." Matthew hums, looking up to him.

"And you'll be wearing a suit, I think. And you'll wear those cufflinks that your mother brought you."

"What will you be wearing." Charlie swallowed awkwardly.

"I don't know yet. And we'll have the reception in the Church Hall. All our friends will be there. We'll dance together, under the lights…" He stops because Matthew is looking at him.

"Charlie you're crying," Matthew says, frowning tightly. "Why?" He reached up to feel his face, his fingers come away damp. Lucien looks alarmed.

"Uh." He says, dumbly, unable to say 'Because I want to marry you so badly but I can't because once you find out I'm a boy you're going to think I'm a deranged pervert who uses people and try to have me sectioned you won't want to be with me' out loud. Eventually, he is able to give a half truth. "I was so worried about you. I thought that you must have been stabbed or something!" He said, clutching his own hand tighter around Matthew's. "I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have you." That was true.

"Well, I'm alright," Matthew promises, and awkwardly reaches over to brush tears away from his face. Charlie smiles through his tears, "And I don't intend to go anywhere anytime soon. We're getting married, remember?"

"Yeah, we are," Charlie whispered, kissing his hand again.

…

It takes three days for Matthew to be released from the hospital. Lucien insists that he should stay with them for a couple of days, but he suspects that's more for Charlie than for him. Charlie takes time off work to look after him. And he's good at it, surprisingly. He's making soup because that was easy to eat and didn't upset his hurt tooth too much, when Jean steps in. To check, probably. Matthew it at the table, trying to see if he could sip tea on the left side of his mouth.

Jean looks over his shoulder into the pot. She smells like perfume and hairspray. She takes his spoon and pokes around in the pot.

"Very nice." She says as if she could discern any information from the generic floating carrot and pale chicken. "I think we might make a housewife out of you yet." She said. Charlie's stomach falls to his shoes. Even after all this time, it still stings. He's not going to be a housewife because he's not a woman. Not because he can't cook or sew socks (and he can do both very well) or because he wears pants and has short hair. He's not a housewife, not for Matthew or for anyone else. But that doesn't stop the hurt. It just reminds him of what he isn't. What everyone thinks he is. What he is going to be expected to do. Why they can't marry.

"Charlie's said plenty of times that she's not interested in being a housewife." Matthew says from the table, back still to them. "Leave her alone, Jean." He says and sips his tea again. Charlie wishes, suddenly, that just for once, his joy for Matthew defending him, could overshadow the ocean his stomach acid had suddenly turned into at being called she. Just once, he wanted to feel good. Was that really so much to ask of the world? Jean looks slightly offended by the remark and takes her leave. Charlie knows that he has to tell him. There's no other way out of this.

He could break it off, he thinks, spooning soup into a bowl. But he knows he won't do that. Can't do that. He's too much of a coward. Too much in love. Not without giving him a reason. He serves Matthew soup. He pretends not to be sad.

…

Charlie waits for him to be back at work before he picks a night to tell him. He basks in it while he waits, spends every second he can with the man, talks to him, gets to know him, understands him. Understand why he wants to marry now rather than earlier.

That night, he invited Matthew over for dinner. He chose that night for a very specific reason. Neither Jean nor Danny was going to be home, just himself and Lucien. This way, if something went wrong, if Matthew decided that getting physical was the answer, there was someone who could at least ensure that he didn't die or get beaten to death. Not that he thought Matthew would go that far, but experience has taught him that it's dangerous to let people in, and anyone can turn on you in a heated moment.

He even made dinner that evening. This doesn't bother him. He likes to make dinner. He's been trying for months to get Matthew to eat things other than meat and three veg. Matthew has insistently not. It's rather endearing in a way. Charlie cooked three people's worth of lamb chops as well as peas, corn on the cob and carrot. Simple, but pleasing. They ate, and it was good. Lucien and Matthew spoke and Charlie listened.

Following that, they made their way to the living room to watch A Game of Champions. Matthew correctly guesses every answer. Charlie barely knows any. He's not very good at this game. When the show is over and the winner has money, Matthew turns the television off. He returns to the couch and tugged Charlie close to him. He smells like soap and tea. It's a very comforting smell. He gently combed his fingers through Charlie's styled hair. Charlie smiled idly at him, and for a few moments, he shut his eyes.

He opened them again a few moments later and sat up. He fiddled with his ring for a moment, before tugging it off, and turning Matthew's palm up. He placed it there and tightened his fingers around it.

"Charlie?" He asked, softly, confused.

"We can't get married." He breathed, softly.

"What do you mean?" He asked, "Are you -?" Charlie can't stop a smile crossing his face.

"No. I'm not." He said, softly. "I'm just trying to make it easier for you."

"I don't understand."

"I don't want to marry you under false pretenses." He says, as Matthew sat up as well. "I want you to know that I love you, before I say anything else, and it's out of love that I'm telling you this. And because I think you will keep it between us."

"I love you too, what are-" He interrupts.

"Matthew, the truth of the matter is, you think I'm a woman."

"Well you are, aren't you?"

"No, I'm not. I'm…Well. A man." Matthew's face blanks out.

"What?"

"I'm a man. A boy. Not a girl."

"Do you have a-" He can't say the word. Charlie shakes his head no. "So you're a girl, then? Right?" Charlie shook his head no.

"It's why I can't stand being called Charlene, or wearing skirts." He said. "Because that's a name for someone else. I'm Charlie. Just Charlie. I'm a boy. I want to be a boy. Haven't you ever wondered about this?" He asked, indicating to his mostly flat chest. "It's a binder, it makes everything flat because I don't want them."

Matthew is looking at him dumbly.

"Oh." Is all he can say. Charlie let out a breath of air. His body crumples. They both sit in silence for a long time. "I'm not queer." Is eventually what Matthew coughs up.

"I know." Is Charlie's reply, "I'm not asking you to be. I'm just, telling you. I'm still Charlie. You just know, now, that I'm a man – Charlie. Not a girl – Charlie."

"Is there a word?"

"Pardon?"

"Men who like men are homosexuals. Women who like women are Lesbians. What's your word?" Long pause.

"Transvestite." Matthew nods, and then stands up.

"I think I need to leave."

"Will I be seeing you around?"

"I don't know." And with that, he was gone. Charlie was alone on the sofa, with his hands in his lap, breathing in the last of him.

…

"I see you aren't wearing your ring, Charlene." Charlie should have known better then to come here. It's not that he doesn't like the women in Jean's sewing circle, they're okay, it's just that they're all like her. Nosy, and occasionally annoying. And they insisted on calling him the wrong name. He's pretty used to it, it shouldn't upset him as much as It does. Jean had introduced him as Charlie, but they'd practically bullied her into telling them about the Charlene name. He looks up to Evelyn and instinctively covered his hand.

"No, I'm not."

"Why?" Dorothy asked, tugging her needle through the cloth. Charlie is the youngest member of the group, at just barely thirty.

"We're…Fighting."

"Oh?"

"I want to marry at Sacred Heart. He doesn't."

"Well, you're making the right choice." Evelyn said, "A union is only truly completed in the eyes of God." All his life, Charlie felt like God was his enemy. Why make him a boy then decide that everyone would see him as a girl? It seemed cruel to him. For a long time, he'd opposed God. Did everything in his power to distance himself. As he'd grown older, been to more sermons, he had a slightly better understanding now. God sent everyone challenges, Jean's husband died and she had to survive on her own. Lucien went to war. Matthew had Macavoy. This was his challenge. At least, that's what he was convinced of. He's still not convinced of his belief, but he likes the community feeling of Churches.

The main way he'd avoided being called the wrong name and the wrong pronouns over the years was isolation. If he didn't talk to anyone, then no one could call him the wrong thing. It led to a lonely life. Church had been an escape from that. He was accepted, and no one spoke to him unless he spoke first. Until he knew Jean and Lucien, and through them, Matthew and Danny, he hadn't had many friends. It's not really in is nature, not anymore.

"I told him we weren't marrying unless it was in a Church. So, we're taking a break to think some more."

"I wouldn't count on it." Dorothy advises, "Men his age are very set in their ways."

"If you still want to get married, Janet West's son is your age. I think you'd like him." Dorothy said, "He's a nice boy, a lawyer."

"Danny's always looking for a beau." Jean piped up. Charlie smiled slightly,

"Thank you, but I think I'll try and find common ground with Matthew. Then maybe I'll think of another boy." He smiled, and looked back to his sewing, feeling his stomach swirl rapidly.

…

He feels like he's walking on a dream. Prior to Matthew, Charlie never really got invested in people. Sure, he had acquaintances, and his mother, but he didn't feel like any of them really understood him. Not how Matthew did. And Lucien decided to be his friend, after a murder at the factory, and then Jean comes with Lucien in a package deal, and then Danny befriended him and then after all of that, he met Matthew.

The last three weeks have gone by at the speed of a snail on a salt trail. Matthew hasn't spoken to him. He's spoken to Lucien and Danny. But not Charlie. Lucien apparently told him what for at the station, but hasn't mentioned it since. It amused Charlie, that Lucien would take on the role of the father in this situation. It must be nice, to be what you are, he thought, as he sat on his bed.

His engagement photo still sits on his bedside table. It was clipped out of the paper by Jean for him. Charlie has always liked it because, in the announcement, Lawson refers to him as 'Charlie Davis'. That was where he was when Lucien came in. He dropped down on the bed and looked Charlie up and down.

"Matthew was in here today, while you were at work."

"Yeah?"

"Asked me if I had any books about transvestites." Charlie swallowed.

"Oh?" He said, feigning innocence on the matter. Lucien looked him up and down, then took his fingers between his own, looking him right in the soul, it felt.

"Are you a man, Charlie?" Charlie looked at him for a long time. He's not sure how long it actually took him to work up the courage to reply. Lucien doesn't move an inch. The hesitation must give him an answer but he waits anyway.

Eventually, he croaks out a tiny 'yes' and is forced to lower his gaze. It seemed so much easier coming out to Matthew.

"How did you know?"

"I put the pieces together." He replied, still holding Charlie's hands close to him.

"Can you fix it?" He asked, softly.

"Fix what?"

"Me, maybe? Him?"

"I don't think anyone needs fixing." Lucien advised. "Have you considered hormones? Surgery?" Charlie shook his head no.

"I've only ever told three people, including you and Matthew."

"Why?" Charlie pulled his hands away and put then into his mouth. He removed his plate. The plate was a single false tooth.

"Because I like having my face intact." He slid the thing back into his mouth and ran his tongue along it to make sure it would stick. Lucien looks sad.

"I'm so sorry." He said, softly.

"Have I lost him?" Charlie asked, finally. Lucien looks thoughtful for several moments.

"I don't know." He admits. "But I would take it as a good sign that he's trying to understand." Charlie isn't really sure that he will, but he nods anyway. Lucien offers him a hug, and with some hesitation, he accepts.

…

It takes a further week for Matthew Lawson to waltz back into his life. It happened on an otherwise uneventful night, Charlie was sitting alone in his bedroom, reading over his reports. It's Lucien who brings him up. Charlie is surprised, to say the least. He'd expected to never see Matthew again.

"Matthew." He said, softly.

"Do you want me to stay?" Lucien asks, but Charlie shakes his head. There's no need. Matthew made his way over and sat on the single bed. Charlie put his report down and moved next to him.

"Charlie." He says, finally.

"I missed you." Charlie says, as Matthew picks up their engagement announcement from the bedside table.

"I missed you, too." Matthew says, smiling at the image. He set it down, and then turned back to Charlie. "I've read a lot of books, about…You know."

"Yeah?"

"I wanted to understand if there was a way to…Fix it." Charlie has no idea how to identify the feeling that statement fills him with. "And…I suppose there is. Do you think you would like to?"

"Would I like to what?" Because really, there was a lot of what's that he could be referring to.

"Have a surgery. Take pills. That sort of thing."

Was that really a fix, then? Would it make it easier to go about living? He has no idea. At least he wasn't talking about sanctioning and talking to doctors, that much he is grateful for. He supposed Matthew did put a lot of effort into this, and he deserved an actual response.

"Pills yes, surgery no."

"Really? Why? Do you not want…" If he looks hopeful than Charlie ignores it. He's read all the books about it. He knows the public figures. He knows damn well how this whole thing goes down.

"I don't want to be a freakshow. That's how every single person who has surgery ends up. A freakshow for the public to stare at. I couldn't cope." He said, "Anyway. I'd have to go to America or Norway or something. As if I could even afford that." He said, and then looked back at him. Matthew nods, finally.

"And if you change your mind?"

"I'll deal with it then." Matthew studies him long and hard. He concedes.

"Have you always felt like a boy?"

"I've never not felt like a boy." Matthew carefully took both of Charlie's hands into his own.

"I used to tell people that I'd never met a woman like you. But I guess that's because you weren't a woman." Charlie frowns very slightly. But Matthew saying he wasn't a woman felt nice. In an odd sort of way. "I don't understand. I'll admit that. But." He produced the ring from his pocket. "I'd still like it very much if you'd go through with the wedding." Charlie pushes his arms aside and pulls him into a tight hug. Matthew hugs back.

…

"Why did I let you insist upon a rainy day again?" Matthew asked, as Charlie helped one of the flower girls fix her hair.

"It's good luck." He replied. Matthew scoffed, but found he had no reason to complain otherwise. Charlie had done a good job getting the wedding set up. Ribbons all the same length on tables, vases of tulips, catering of good Australian food. All and all, he was glad they went through with the wedding. They'd even performed the ceremony at Sacred Heart. Matthew made sure that Charlene was not said in the ceremony, and even insisted on not using the words husband and wife. Father Emmery had been confused, but if the Superintendent was marrying at his Church, then. Well.

Charlie did look very beautiful, he thought as they made their way from the reception to his car. Someone had written just married on the back window, his suspect was Parks. He stopped Charlie for one last kiss before he got into the car and followed by going around to the drivers side. If anyone found it odd that Charlie had worn a suit, then they had kept it to themselves. Of that he was glad. What he was even more glad for, was spending five days alone with his new husband.


End file.
